How to become a literary, a luminary, to know and feel a sparkling flash of purpose and sense of self? In college, I dreamt of becoming a big city fish. In New York, I'm finding that everyone's a piranha.

Monday, June 04, 2007

The Transparency of Jellyfish

Today, I am a jellyfish. My insides are electric, glowing visible.

My feelers are out, I am stretched, transparent and floating and there is nothing else I can do except wait patiently and hope for waves to push to me what’s best and what I need.

Though the water I’m under can only provide external acceptance or tangible ideas, any sort of inner strength and wellbeing and even oxygen to breathe is all on me. I haven’t yet figured out how to convert the external accomplishments into the internal, and until I do, they will need to be infinite just to sustain me.

It’s a burden to ration out my own reserves, unsure of when they can be replenished, and there’s no way around it. I can’t have anything outward unless I am complete inside.

Dang.

The people we love who don’t love us back, the homes we covet and squeeze our eyes tight that we will receive, the breaks we deserve, the illnesses that strike us down before they don’t cannot impact us good or bad unless we are an open, waiting net. As large as we can possibly be.

There are no guarantees for anything and yet knowing this does not make anything one iota easier…

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About Me

Barely the definition of an adult, I'm trying to navigate through the city, the scenesters, the lackies, the lonely, and wondering if
I'll ever fit in.
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